


Bedroom Stories

by Bonnie131313, merionees, talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Drawing, Fanart, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Traditional Art, light nsfw, pen drawing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313, https://archiveofourown.org/users/merionees/pseuds/merionees, https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: Pen drawing series of scenes taking place in (different) bedrooms. Basing on my explorations of figure drawing and body language. Nothing too graphic, but the more left for everyone's imagination... I hope :)Edited 16 Dec 2018: addition to chapter 2: lovely ficlet by Bonnie131313 (originally posted on tumblr, but may be not available there after 17 Dec 2018)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Every scene has reference to song I found fitting the atmosphere.  
>   
> Soundtrack for 1st part: This Is Love by PJ Harvey ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DSTxXS5lLunE&t=ZjAzMDAwNGU4MDQzMjZmZDcwZTcwYzg0OWEwYWY3M2ZiNWVhOGNhZixEOVRrTGxuaA%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F163599109472%2Fbedroom-stories-i-pen-drawing-soundtrack-this&m=0)).  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every scene has reference to song I found fitting the atmosphere.
> 
> Soundtrack for 1st part: This Is Love by PJ Harvey ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DSTxXS5lLunE&t=ZjAzMDAwNGU4MDQzMjZmZDcwZTcwYzg0OWEwYWY3M2ZiNWVhOGNhZixEOVRrTGxuaA%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F163599109472%2Fbedroom-stories-i-pen-drawing-soundtrack-this&m=0)).  
>   
>   
> I'm so honoured that my drawing inspired talkingtothesky to write this lovely ficlet, so here you can enjoy them together.

John pushes himself up against the pillows, spreading his legs, sprawling.

Harold is lying very rigidly on his back, his arms held protectively across his own bare chest. Staring at the ceiling.

With his shoulders propped up like this, John can see his face better. Harold looks troubled.

John rubs his bristly chin with the back of his hand. “Are you okay?” He asks. His voice still comes out hoarse and croaky. Embarrassed, he tries to clear his throat.

Harold’s eyes flick up towards him. For a long moment, that’s all it is. The two of them, gazes locked, sharing John’s bed.

Then Harold closes his eyes. “No, I’m not.” He rolls away from John the moment the words are out. Like someone lit a fire under him, he’s off the bed and sliding his glasses back onto his face. He snatches shorts and shirt off the smooth wood floor, eying the creased fabric with vague distaste before shoving his limbs into the discarded clothes. He turns his back on John while he buttons up the shirt.

John should probably say something at this point. Does Harold want him to beg? He liked the sound of it an hour ago.

He just watches as Harold finds his pants. He flaps them once, twice, vigorously, until the legs turn themselves the right way out. John had caught him at the hips, lifted him onto the dining table and peeled the trousers off. Harold’s socks had stayed on until they were in the bed and John had pushed them off with his toes.

_Fuck_ , this is going to hurt. If he only gets to have this once…

Harold finishes with the slacks and looks around for the socks. John runs his leg under the blankets until he finds them, balls them up in his hands, tosses them in Harold’s direction.

Automatically, Harold catches them, and for half a second his mouth twitches up at the corners. Before he remembers he’s supposed to be angry. He falters with the socks in his hands, looking around. Then he sighs and perches on the very edge of the bed to put them on.

John’s right hand rests on the bed. He slides it closer to Harold, lifts it, lets the tip of his finger trace the curve of Harold’s lower back through his untucked shirt. Wishing touch could persuade him to stay, because words never would. Harold finishes with the left sock, puts his bad leg down, slapping John’s touch away with his right hand. Then he starts pulling on the other sock.

John pulls his rejected finger back and touches his lips. They’re pleasantly sore. Harold’s mouth poured urgent kisses into his. He might be running scared now, but John couldn’t make him do anything Harold didn’t _really_ want to do.

Maybe John will resort to begging after all.

“Don’t go. You’re not a coward.”

Harold is standing again now, his shirt tucked hastily into his waistband.

He shakes his head without turning to look at John. “That’s _exactly_ what I am.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for 2nd part: Don’t Forget Me by Red Hot Chili Peppers ([X)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2SeFnvs73A)
> 
> I'm honoured to present here lovely ficlet by Bonnie131313!

This never should have happened, that’s all Harold can think as he lies there, sore and sated.

John Reese is his employee. It’s immoral, unethical. Of course, John had been the one to instigate this, pulling Harold close and pressing their lips together. The kiss had been so good, tender and yearning. Harold should have pushed John away instead of pulling him close and returning the kiss. He ought to have said no instead of begging John shamelessly for more. Harold should have told John to leave, instead of leading him to the bedroom.

This never should have happened, Harold thinks as he listens to John Reese’s softly snoring.

John Reese is a former spy, trained by the CIA to do anything to get the information he needs. Harold has read enough of John’s files to know that seduction was one of the techniques Mr. Reese has sometimes used. John has made no secret of his curiosity about Harold. Is this all a ruse to discover Harold’s secrets? He had hoped they’d finally reached a point where the skeletons in his cupboard no longer mattered to John. It makes him sick to think this might have been some ploy.

This never should have happened, Harold tells himself as John stirs beside him.

Harold watches as John’s eyes open only to spy Harold lying beside him. He watches John smile over at him, hopeful and happy.

“Good morning,” John rumbles and moves closer, pressing a tender kiss to Harold’s lips.

This never should have happened, Harold thinks, even as he does everything he can to ensure it happens again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chemical by Kerli ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DVbNEuLQVgMI&t=NmZlMDZhNTg1MzM3NThjZTM1YWE5OTZlOGVjNTc0Yzk0MmZhZGJjZixLcU9hem5BWg%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164102065927%2Fbedroom-stories-iii-pen-drawing-chemical-by&m=0))
> 
> Wonderful ficlet by talkingtothesky again!

 

When Harold moves into 810 Baxter St Apartment 5A, the first thing John does is fit floor-to-ceiling blackout curtains.

The first night they spend there together is the first time John ever tries to sleep in the overly grand bed. He’d stayed on the couch before that.

Harold wakes in the early hours of the morning with a charley horse. Light sleepers both, John instantly hears him react to the pain. Harold tears himself out of bed and hobbles away, clutching the back of his thigh.

John gets up too, flicking on the bedside lamp and shoving his bare ass into a pair of old jeans before rushing to help him.

Harold grips one edge of the dinner table, awkwardly bending over, trying to squeeze the cramp from his bad leg. He plucks impatiently at the inner thigh seam of his pajama trousers, as if their tightness could be causing the muscle spasm.

John takes his arm and guides him over to the footstool near the leather lounge chair. Harold winces as he sits down. John kneels in front of him. “Give me your foot.” He cups his fingers around the back of Harold’s heel until his toes point up towards the ceiling. With his other hand he supports the leg and massages Harold’s calf.

As John helps him stretch out, Harold mutters sleepily: “I should have expected my body wouldn’t let me get away with being so… forceful with you.”

Finch had fucked him assiduously a few hours before. John had finished up sprawled face down on the mattress, lying in a sticky wet patch and gasping for breath. John smirks at the memory, enjoying the faint blush in Harold’s cheeks.

“Any better?” He asks, assisting Harold to slowly flex his leg in and out, until it’s moving normally again.

Harold sighs, obviously relieved. “Thank you.”

With one last stroke of his thumb along the arch, John sets Harold’s foot down on the floor. He stands up, about to move away, when Harold grabs the sticking out belt tail on his jeans and draws him nearer. He strokes John’s hips and kisses the faint scars above John’s belly button.

John shivers, sucking in his ribs instinctively. Even after months of this, Harold’s almost worshipful desire for him can still catch John off guard.

Harold lets his hands fall, elbows resting on his thighs. He looks up at John, meeting his eyes, searching for an understanding. Without his glasses, he seems more vulnerable than ever. John gives into the instinct to wrap him in his arms.

Hands around the back of Harold’s head, John lets his groin press against Harold’s chest, offering up his entire torso for Harold’s lips to explore. It’s not entirely a sexual feeling, although that forms part of it. It’s the knowledge that he is cared for, and in turn allowed to take care of Harold.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Good Clean Fun by Cat Power ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D0PhBsQhydKg&t=NTMzMmJhNWQ0YTViNmU5M2FlZWNjMGY1OGYxMDkxYTdiYzMzNzE5NCxkZjg2VUNmMA%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164417644332%2Fbedroom-stories-iv-pen-drawing-soundtrack&m=0))
> 
> This time talkingtothesky was unstoppable, which resulted TWO alternative ficlets. Both are just amazing!

 

Alternative I

 

Harold comes out after his shower, refreshed and alert, holding a towel around his waist. The room is wonderfully warm, so he doesn’t bother finding his clothes right away.

John is still exactly where he left him. Harold had somewhat impishly pulled the sheets down as he got out of bed, but John has not even lifted them to cover himself. He’s lying on his back, a forearm slung over his face. John can’t see him, but Harold shoots him an unimpressed look from the foot of the bed anyway.

He heads over to the windows, enjoying the plush carpet under his bare feet. He tugs the long curtains open, a wash of mid-morning Italian sunlight spilling into the room.

That at least gets a reaction from John. He rolls onto his side, away from the sunshine, clamping his hand over his eyes and groaning. “Haarollllld. My head.”

Harold picks up his phone from the side table, double checking his itinerary. In deference to John’s complaint, he speaks softly. “We need to leave soon, if we want to get to MAXXI by the time it opens.”

John makes a childish, distressed noise. “Don’t wanna.”

Harold tuts at him. He pulls the curtain back across a fraction, so the golden light only falls on John’s back and shoulders, not his head. He makes another attempt at cajoling him. “Oh, come on, you’re just saying that. You were keen when we looked through the brochure. We agreed on no churches or tombs, but modern art, lunch, and the beach. Surely you don’t want to spend the whole day in the hotel room?” He paces as he talks, absently admiring the play of his shadow across John’s skin.

John is stubbornly silent.

Harold sighs and leans against the bed. Still holding his phone, Harold uses the back of his hand to dislodge John’s grip on his face. John’s eyes are screwed shut but he doesn’t resist him.

“Are you truly suffering? I would’ve thought your alcohol tolerance would be higher, given your history. You only drank two beers.”

John nods miserably, moving his head on the pillow just enough to communicate.

Harold lets his towel hold itself up, freeing his other hand to pat John between thigh and buttock. “Very well. I’ll have to go without you.”

Harold judges it perfectly, stepping back just in time. John gets his elbow beneath himself and sits up as though he’d heard gunfire. At normal volume, he says “What? No, stay!” John’s eyes flutter open, he twists around to face the window with only a slight squint. His head is fine.

Harold folds his arms and smiles down at him indulgently. “I know everything about you, John Reese. Including when you’re faking a hangover.”

 

 

Alternative II

 

John had figured Harold might be gay. The way he talked about his Nathan was a pretty big clue.

As for himself, he’d only been with women. Until now.

Until last night, when he’d put his hand on Finch’s chest and firmly backed him into a wall, wanting to contain him, protect him, keep him still. He’d hardly known why. Perhaps it had been a reaction to seeing Finch embrace a younger man (Nathan’s son who called him Uncle Harold) three times in one day, when Harold had hardly ever touched John except for while he was bleeding. Somehow they’d ended up kissing. He’d let Harold take him home, undress him. He’d stretched out beneath him on the bed and Harold had used his mouth on John’s nipples, his hands on John’s dick. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him so gently.

They hadn’t talked about it.

John wasn’t panicking. He was perfectly calm and clear-headed in life-and-death situations. Panic simply wasn’t something he ever let himself indulge in. But until last night, sleeping with men wasn’t something he ever did, either.

The muffled sound of rushing water cut off. A few moments later, Harold emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel round his waist. John snapped his eyes shut and squeezed a hand at his forehead, preventing his gaze from lingering on Harold’s sloping shoulders, his fuzz of graying chest hair.

This wasn’t just any man. This was John’s only friend, and employer.

He’d known he was acting differently around Harold almost as soon as they started working together. He didn’t consciously flirt with, or try to take care of, other guys. It wasn’t even about trying to guess Harold’s secrets, although he also did that. John really liked him, and he wanted Finch to like him too. Wanted to prove he wasn’t a bad investment, wanted to earn his trust.

He’d thought that was all. Respect, admiration, caring, loyalty. This new sexual dimension was throwing John for a loop.

He felt like he was drowning in uncertainty. What was he supposed to do now? Leave, and wait for Harold to contact him with a new number, and never mention this again? That might be safer. But what if Harold considered this the start of something? What if he wanted to do things that John had never done, and might never be ready for?

_I’m not gay_ , he wanted to warn Harold. _I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not good enough for you. I have nothing to give._

John was lying curled in on himself, hardly breathing. Somewhere behind him, Harold was…humming under his breath. A tune John didn’t recognize. Finch was _happy_. He wasn’t worried about what they’d done. And he’d let John stay the night.

It was the thought of that generosity which tipped the scales for John. He’d been on the streets for so long before Finch found him. His only meals came in a bottle, his ragged clothes the main source of warmth. Less than a year on, here he was lying naked in a billionaire’s bed. He hardly recognized himself. The disconnect was so striking that John sobbed, a wretched sound which tore its way out of his throat before he could stop it.

Harold heard him at once. “John, what is it? What’s wrong?” John sensed him moving closer, standing over him. His hand hovered just above John’s shoulder, uncertain, not making contact. Tears slid from John’s eyes onto the pillow, making it damp. He kept his hand over his face, shielding the tears from view, but there was no pushing them back into his eyes, no disguising the shaking of his shoulders. John felt ashamed. It was bad enough he was falling apart over nothing. Now he’d made it Finch’s problem. Couldn’t he have at least waited until he was alone? _Stupid._

The bed dipped behind him. Finch was sitting down. John could feel the texture of Harold’s towel at his back. Finch sounded perplexed. “Are you in pain, is it your stomach?” John’s recently healed gut shot was still sore from time to time. Harold knew all about it. Instead of leaving him to die, Harold had made sure John got stitched up, had got him a wheelchair, cushions, crutches, all manner of first-aid supplies. John had enjoyed Harold’s concern and attention, even as it irritated him. He was forever torn between dismissing it and opening up.

At this moment he was in no physical pain from his injuries. He was clenching his jaw hard to suppress any further sobs, and his head ached from crying. That hardly counted.

Harold’s elbow rested on John’s flank, his arm settling over John’s exposed side. Fingertips caressed his shoulder blade, causing John to stiffen, before cautiously leaning against the comforting touch.

Harold sighed. “John, please talk to me. Is this about Jessica?”

Another stab of guilt went through him. That would have been a sensible thing to cry over. Perhaps he ought to have mourned their relationship now. But he’d had sex with Kara while Jessica was still alive. There was no sense of betrayal. Sleeping with Harold didn’t factor into his old feelings for her. The truth was, he’d not thought much about Jessica these past months. From almost the day they met, his heart was all for Finch.

“I should be dead,” he said, at last. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve _you_.”

Harold was quiet for a long moment. His hand went still on John’s back. John feared he’d said too much. Harold would get up and leave next. John had ruined his carefree morning-after glow.

Instead, Harold’s grip tightened on John’s bicep. His reply was low and vehement. “If _anyone_ in the world got precisely what they deserved, there would be no need for the Machine, or the police, or the work that we do.” As he spoke, he gently drew John’s hand away from covering his eyes. John twisted his head around, shifting his body so he could look up at Harold. “So perhaps you should think less about what we deserve, and more about what I want to give you.” He cupped John’s face, his thumb carefully dabbing away tears.

John let his eyes close again, and his own hand pressed Harold’s fingers to his cheek.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Pretty Wasted by Tito And Tarantula ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DWTCTohuW4n8&t=MTA5ZWMxOWEyNTRkNDMxMGFjYzhhZjY2NmVhN2I4ZDBkYmMxMjliZCxGZ2R1WE83UA%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164682139732%2Ftheragnarokd-merionees-bedroom-stories-v&m=0)) 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: 613 by Asaf Avidan ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DYxXTLHepxo0&t=MGRiNWQ2ZTZjMTc5YmRiZGU1N2RhMmZhNjVmY2M0YjA1MjcxYmE3Nyx5TTZubUdKMw%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164942007462%2Fbedroom-stories-vi-pen-drawing-soundtrack-613&m=0)) 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: (Do You Get) Excited? by Roxette ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D5U_P-HR8J5w&t=ZmUwNjNhZDA5NWNiM2ZmMmQ4ODRhNTA5NDA2MjhhYjMzZjFmYmYzMyxOaWM3R054TA%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165194370112%2Fbedroom-stories-vii-pen-drawing-soundtrack&m=0)) 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Only When I Lose Myself by Depeche Mode ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dl35XzUD8GGU&t=YjZkMWU2M2EyYzg1ZTAxZmQzMjFlNDU1ZjdhZmQzY2Q2NzYxNjg5ZSxCSWxDZVVGdg%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F166430589892%2Fbedroom-stories-viii-pen-drawing-soundtrack&m=0)) 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: To Be By Your Side by Nick Cave ([X](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DP0v9vd4JEeo&t=MDE2Mzg1ZWYxOWI5YzcyYzBjZjdmYjExNjI2YmJlZjJkYTUxYjY0MSxFOEF1eG8wUQ%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167459059262%2Fbedroom-stories-ix-pen-drawing-soundtrack-to&m=0))


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack: Amour by Rammstein ([X](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DDXwha3NvM6w%26list%3DPLKHohYIyZhiLwk0Ddjln0xvQjrklHC97a%26index%3D143&t=ZWVhN2IxMWVhMzQxMTFkOGZhYzcwMjJjNGRkN2Q4NmUwNjRhOGQzNSxrMGZjWGhncQ%3D%3D&b=t%3A24GgcLHe-fE9fRV0ormwfg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmerionees.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174185832002%2Fbedroom-stories-part-x-pen-drawing-soundtrack))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone once asked me for more soft and fluffy Harold, so I tried. Comments are most welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> In this series I used classic drawing technique, mostly hatching and cross-hatching. I like how pen allows very controlled shading without smudging. Combining strong and delicate lines gives a lot of variety in creating different forms, best shown on figures and small objects here. But covering larger and/or dark areas like walls and floors was a bit annoying.  
> Used pens: black uni pin fine line (different nib width, 0,05...0,7), white uni ball signo for corrections. Edited with photo editor for smoother result. Format: my larger sketchbook, about 20x30 cm.


End file.
